


Westallen Office AU

by liquidheartbeats2



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidheartbeats2/pseuds/liquidheartbeats2
Summary: As the founder of Allenscape, a multi-million dollar tech company, Barry Allen is a big deal. To everyone. Well, maybe except for his wife-–Becky Cooper-Allen. To her, he’s….well, Barry. To Iris West, his secretary, however, he’s something else.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Becky Cooper, Barry Allen/Iris West
Comments: 25
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

Becky stood there, lips pursed and arms folded, tapping her Louboutin-clad foot against the floor of Barry's office, as he explained to her why every single one of her credit cards had been declined in the span of two hours: his tech company, Allenscape was folding and the judge regarding over his financial litigation had frozen his assets at the request of his creditors until his trial was over.

“You’re telling me we’re broke?” 

“No, not broke,” Barry assured her. “We still have our nest egg and the money that my father put in a trust for our future kids. That’s not linked to our accounts, and can’t be collected. We’ll be able to live very comfortably." He paused for a beat before continuing with, "But we will have to downsize. Get rid of the second home, the beach property, the extra cars, some of your jewelry.”

Becky gasped, grabbing at her neck, decorated with a 14-carat diamond necklace. You think I’m giving up my diamonds! My rubies!” she yelled, splaying her flawless ruby-encrusted ring in his face, “Because you’ve forgotten how to run a business?”

"For God's sake, Becky, It's only temporary!" Barry yelled just as a loud knock grabbed his attention.

“Mr.Allen,” said the voice responsible for the knock, with a smile, face focused on the tablet in her hand. “Your 5 o'clock is ready for her appointment.”

“Don’t you see me _speaking to my husband?_!” Becky yelled in the direction of the assistant, obviously oblivious to the storm she’d just walked in on. The assistant’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Becky, who didn’t usually pop up at the office." _Thank God._

“My apologies, Mrs. Allen," Iris said, promptly.

She started to leave, and Barry sighed. He waved his hand in her direction, pushing a smile to the surface, past the frown on his face. “Iris, Please tell my appointment that I’ll be with her shortly. And that I’m _really_ sorry for the wait.”

“Will do, Mr. Allen.” She nodded curtly, trying to conceal the frown from forming on her own face. 

When he was sure Iris was out of earshot, he turned his attention back to Becky, whose gaze was still focused on the door. “You don’t have to speak to my employees with such disdain,” Barry said, angrily.

“Maybe if you lit a little fire under their asses, they’d be motivated to come up with innovative ideas like they used to, and we wouldn’t be dealing with this mess in the first place!”

“Employees thrive when they’re in a positive, respectful environment; when they feel like people with valuable ideas - not just machines meant to make the leaders at the top rich. ”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, do you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Becky scoffed, and look around the office. “It means... I need you to fix this.” She then turned to gather her designer purse from the floor, and walked towards the door. “I don’t care how,” she added, shooting Barry one final look of disdain before exiting

With Becky gone, Barry Allen flopped into his desk, ran a hand through his hair, and loosened his tie.

Considering the state of their marriage over the past two years, that had actually, gone a lot better than he’d expected. Becky Cooper had never been a woman who appreciated being inconvenienced -- a trait that had only become exasperated once his company had taken off shortly after college, and he’d been able to give her the life he’d always wanted. 

No one was perfect, he’d told himself. And she had a lot of other good qualities -- ones that outweighed the materialistic side of her.

These days, they were just harder to see.

*********************************************************************************

In the hall, Iris sat at her desk waiting patiently. Her shift had ended twenty minutes ago, and she hadn’t expected Mrs. Allen to pop up and delay Barry's meeting, but fireworks usually followed any appearance made by her, and Iris knew better than to interrupt.

Besides, her desk sat just ten feet outside of Mr. Allen’s office and was in the optimal spot for eavesdropping. 

Her heart broke when she’d heard of his financial troubles. He was such a great boss and worked just as hard as his employees, so knowing his company was possibly going under saddened her. 

She also couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for her job. She’d only been with Allenscape for a year, and newer employees were always let go first when companies downsized. 

The sound of Becky’s heels clacking against the hardwood floors, steadily approaching her from behind, pulled Iris away from her thoughts, and prompted her to make herself look busy. She began shuffling files that had already been shuffled and pretended that she hadn’t heard every word of that argument. 

“Have a great evening, Mrs. Allen,” Iris said, as Becky passed her.

“You too, West,” Becky said as she sashayed her way toward the exit, without making eye contact. 

_What a bitch._ Iris stood at her desk, peering past the revolving glass doors to make sure she saw Mrs. Allen get into her fancy sports car, and pull out of the parking lot, with her own eyes.

Iris then gathered her tablet and walked back to Mr. Allen’s door. His 5 O's clock had been waiting long enough. She casually smoothed her hand over her black a-line skirt before knocking against his door. 

After a moment of shuffling, he emerged from the other side. 

“Mr. Allen, Your 5 o'clock is still waiting for you."

“Good -- because I’m ready to see her,” he said with a smile. 

Iris smiled coyly in return, then stepped over the threshold, locking and closing the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Allen’s hands were on Iris’s hips, hoisting her up against his office door before the lock had clinked. She eagerly parted her thighs, and wrapped her long legs around his waist. Her A-line skirt stretched to accommodate their position, but that didn’t stop him from pushing it higher. And higher. His mouth was on hers soon after, satiating his need to devour her luscious lips. She returned his kiss with equal fervor, tousling his hair in her hand, while he walked them over to his office chair, making sure his lips never left her own. 

One seated, his hands rose from her thighs to her ample bottom, kneading at the flesh there. Iris moaned into his mouth, but tore away from him when a naughty thumb started finding its way to her center. “Careful Mr. Allen,” she said, teasingly. “We’re not exactly alone in the building.”

“What if I told you that I didn’t care? “

“Then I’d tell you that,” she said, before sitting up and clearing her throat. “Company policy discourages romantic or intimate relationships between employees, but explicitly prohibits workplace fraternization of any kind between employees and their managers. ”

“Good thing I’m the Founder and, not your manager,” He said with a smile that showed all of his teeth.

Iris laughed, “Same here, Mr. Allen.”

He cocked a brow. “Didn’t I ask you to call me Barry when we’re alone?”

“I know,” she said, looping his arms back around his neck.

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because then you wouldn’t make that serious, pouty face that I love so much... _Mr. Allen_ ,” she said, again, biting her lips. 

“You’re lucky that you are the highlight of my day, otherwise I’d-"

“Be doing exactly what you are right now,” Iris said with a laugh,. 

He chuckled. “You know me so well.”

“Hmmm, do I?” A frown fell across her beautiful face, one that he knew would lead to questions. He sighed, then tilted his head back into his chair, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“So, exactly how much of that did you hear?” He said, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

“Enough to make me concerned.”

“Iris,” he said, shaking his head. “We may have to cut back on staff, but you know your job is safe. I’d take a pay cut before I fire--

“About you, Barry,” she said rising up from his lap, then smoothing down her skirt. She then hopped up onto his desk, crossing her legs. “Not the company. Not my job. I want to know how you are. This must be a major blow.”

Barry peered up into her eyes, trying to see if they told a different story than her words.

The nature of their relationship gave way little room for secrets, which he had to admit worried him a little. He’d learned the hard way that he shouldn’t always fall for a beautiful smile, and a innocent face--8 years too late, in Becky's case.

He tried to keep his guard up, but moments like this where Iris’s eyes sparkled with anticipation and read pure with sincerity sliced straight through his reluctance. As a tech mogul, people often tended to his needs out of obligation. Some, closer to him, asked with ulterior motives, usually did it with their hands out, but when Iris did it, he knew that it was because she cared.

He sighed.

This would be so much easier if she didn’t care.

If _he_ didn’t care.

“Out with it,” Iris prompted. 

“I could be better. I’ll probably have to sell part of the company to keep it going, but it’s like my baby. It’ll be like-”

“Selling a part of yourself.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, do you even have any potential buyers?”

“No, not yet.”

“Well, your investors won’t pull out until you at least have an offer. So that will buy you a little time to regroup, and come up with a game plan. It’s not the end,” she added trying to ease his uncertainty. Truth be told, she didn’t know what the future held. Ramon Industries had been having a freakishly good quarter, bringing in 4 times what Allenscape had over the last year in just four months. 

“It feels like the end,” Barry said, huffing. “If something doesn’t change soon, they’re going to bring in a new CEO. Probably some punk who cheated his way through business school, and who has no idea how to run a fucking company.”

“It’s only the end if you give up. The press attention will be really bad for a few months, but companies have bounced back from far worse. You, Barry Allen, can get through this.She reached out and grabbed his hands in hers. “I believe in you.

“Barry looked at her in awe. "God, I’ve missed you,” he nearly whimpered.

“Miss me? You see my fives day a week. 

“Yeah, but as my assistant. As the person who types up my files and brings me coffee. Not as the woman I wake up eager to see everyday.” He didn’t mean to let Iris make him feel this way. But she was just too perfect. Drop dead gorgeous. Sharp as a tack. A heart made of pure gold.

“Barry, I.”

He leaned up and grabbed her by the hand. “I miss being able to just talk to you, to laugh with you. That trip, the one we took to the last Smartphone expo to was easily the best night I’ve had in five years."

Iris looked to him, inquisitively. “Are you sure you’re not just referring to what happened after you snuck into my hotel room in the middle of the night?” She slid off of his desk, back into his lap. Again, she wrapped her legs around him, turning her attention to his white button down. “Cause that was a wild night.” She removed his loosened tie, then started to undo the top buttons. Soon after, her mouth found his neck. She placed gentle kisses on his Adams apple. Barry moaned, resting his head on the back of his office chair, as she sucked on the skin, before finding his earlobe. Then his neck again.

“That...that was amazing,” he said, bringing his hands back up to her hips. Memories of his head buried deep between her brown thighs, of her plump lips wrapped around the base of his cock, and visions of riding him well into the early morning hours, flooded his brain.

He shifted in his seat, the weight of her pressing against his emerging erection was becoming uncomfortable..“But…. that was just the icing on the cake. Just being able to enjoy your company without looking over my shoulder is what made it especially memorable for me.

Iris couldn’t help but smile. And she hated herself for it. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t get emotionally invested. Some hot sex with a sexy, respectful, albeit adulterous man was all that she’d signed up for. But damn was he making it hard not to fall for him. What had started off as a fun fling, had well...she didn’t know what this was. 

“I've said too much, huh.” Barry said noticing the frown on Iris’s face. 

“No,” Iris said. “I love that you feel comfortable expressing yourself. And I love spending time with you too. But I can’t allow myself to get pulled in too deep. You’re, you’re..."

“I’m married for God’s sake. And yet, I’m hammering you about not spending enough time with me.” Barry shook his head. Maybe this was a mistake. “I’m--

“Special is the word I like to use,” Iris said with a laugh. 

“See, I don’t understand. How are you so perfect? So understanding? So-”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just trying to play the cards I’ve been dealt. I’ve never wanted to be that girl who slept with her married boss, and apart of that picks at my soul. But my heart --and body-- wants what it wants. And, I don’t know that I’m being selfish, and I know that karma is right outside of both our doors, but..”

“You don’t want to end this”.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to end this.”

“I don’t want to end this either,” Barry said.

“But I also don’t want my heart broken either,” she added. “And I know that if I get too invested emotionally, that’s inevitable.”

“Iris, I would never intentionally hurt you. You have to know that.”

“I do know that,” she said, sweeping a hand across his face. “Not intentionally _._ ” 

_“But what you don’t know,”_ she thought to herself, as she peered into his lustrous green eyes, “ _is that another shard of my heart falls away every time you leave my bed and go home to your wife._ ”

  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Expectations. Of commitment, of safety. Those are the types conversations you couldn’t have when you were having an affair with a married man. Much less the married man who signed your checks every week. 

No matter how safe, wanted, and desired Barry made Iris feel, she was in a vulnerable position. Much more than Barry was. Whenever this fling ended, Barry would still have his wife, as much of a bitch as she was. Iris would have no one, which is why she couldn’t allow herself to get pulled in too deep

“What are you thinking about?” Barry asked, catching her serious expression.

“What?”

“I see that – when you drift away into your own thoughts – pondering over God knows what.”

_God, he noticed everything._

“I don’t mind it," Barry said. "The stillness allows me to stare into your beauty without interruption.”

Iris smiled bashfully, sweeping her hair behind her ears. “Barry.”

“It’s true,” he said, swiping his hands down her side. “You’re absolutely breathtaking.”

Her lips found his neck again. He let out a deep moan, as she sucked and nipped at the skin there. At the same time, she hiked her skirt up further, past her natural waist, so that her black thong was exposed. She pressed Barry’s hand against the seat of her panties, which were already dampened by her juices.

“Damn," Barry grunted, savoring the warmth of her wetness. “You’re so ready.”

“I’m always ready…for you,” Iris purred.

Barry smiled, catching the skin of his lips between his teeth.

**Knock. Knock. Knock.**

_Fuck._ **  
**

Barry and Iris both glanced up at the clock. Nearly 6 pm. The only people who usually stayed this late on Fridays were the engineers, but they usually stayed on the fourth floor, testing their prototypes. Going over stats.

Three more knocks. “Mr. Allen?”

“Who is it?” He called out, barely disguising his discontent at whoever was interrupting his time with Iris.

“Felicity Smoak,” called out the voice from the other side of the door. She was Allenscape’s lead mechanical engineer – and an invaluable member of the team. Even so, she had horrible bedside manners. Not to mention, awful timing.

Barry sighed then gently patted Iris’ thigh, prompting her to rise from his lap. She sighed, too but rose and pushed her skirt back down. riBarry stood, promptly smoothing down her tousled hair back into the image of perfection as well.

“Good?” Iris asked.

“Perfect.”

Iris smiled, then licked her hand and smoothed down the flyaways on Barry’s head as well, before rounding the desk, taking a seat on the other – safe – side, as Barry made his way to the door. He glanced back at Iris once more to make sure she was situated. She’d already opened folders, and was pretending to be going over his schedule for the next week.

“Felicity,” Barry said, greeting the blonde woman, he said. “How can I help you?”

“Mr. Allen, I hate to bother you at the end of the work week, but I’ve just completed the prototype of our AXL 10 smartphone for the new expo coming up. And I think it’s time that you test it out.”

“The one in Keystone? Two weeks from now?”

“Precisely…it’s imperative that you OK it as soon as possible, so we can move forward with the implementation of it. Unless you’re busy?” The petite woman looked past him, to his desk where the other woman was sitting. A frown fell across her face. _Iris_.

Barry managed a warm smile. "I’m never too busy for my best mechanical engineer. Come, in, come in.” Barry stepped aside so that the woman could enter, biting back an expletive under his breath, once her back was turned.

The woman sashayed her way over the carpets, past the sitting area, to his desk where Iris was already seated.

“West,” Felicity said with the smugness Iris hated, as she took a seat beside her.

“Smoak,” Iris said, echoing her dry tone.

Unable to help herself, Felicity turned her attention back to Iris. “Shouldn’t you be gone by now?”

Iris bit back a frown. Felicity was such an entitled bitch. All of her fancy degrees and background. Yet, it was Iris who had all-access to Mr. Allen. And she wasn’t even talking about their office fling.

As his personal assistant, Iris had first-hand knowledge of every new strategy, product idea that Mr. Allen came up with before anyone else.

She had his personal phone number, was on call for everything.

And, even though it wasn’t in her job description, Iris was often the person he called up to discuss his ideas with. It mattered not that she didn’t have the education he’d had or the knowledge of the technical side of things. She was honest – sometimes, brutally so, but also encouraging and supportive. She wasn’t afraid to tell him something he didn’t want to hear, but she was highly invested in offering solutions to counteract her criticism.

For a try-hard like Felicity, Iris was like her nemesis, the person standing in between her ability to be a complete and utter kiss ass. Only thing, her feud was one-sided. Felicity’s envy was not Iris’ problem to deal with. Her attitude, however, was another thing.

Iris started to speak but Barry's eyes beckoned her quiet.

"We’re trying to coordinate our schedules for the coming weeks, henceforth why West is doing a little overtime," he said to Felicity.

“Over time,” Felicity echoed. “How generous of you, Mr. Allen. Making sure that every tier of employee is taken care of.”

Barry shook his head, discontent. “There are no hierarchies here. Everyone is equally valuable. A company is nothing without its employees. You guys – all of you from finance, to law, to PR are the backbone of this company. I can’t do anything without you.” He continued, hoping to change the subject: “Now what’s this about that prototype?”

Felicity glanced over at Iris with derision, but relented, turning her attention back to her boss. “As you wish.”

##  **25 minutes, 32 seconds later…**

…”And at the end of the day, I think that it’s best for Allenscape’s brand. Ramon Industries will also be there with their own prototypes, and I hear they're a doozy,” said Felicity

“Isn’t everything? Gotdamn asshole. Has the best streak of luck I’ve ever seen,” Barry said, scoffing.

“Luck yes,” Felicity said, removing her glasses. “But…“

“What? You can speak your mind.” Barry said, beckoning for her to continue.

“Well, Mr. Allen, I think that one of the reasons that Mr. Ramon is having such a good quarter is because he seeks out the best of the best – in every single department of his company. Everyone who works for him,” she said, glancing at Iris. “Is highly sought after. Perhaps if you’d consider cutting the dead weight around here, we could once again compete with his advancements.”

“Dead weight-” Iris started, before Barry interjected.

“Oh, look at the time,” he said, glancing up at the clock. “I’m afraid your presentation ran a little late, Felicity. Let’s resume this talk on Monday, shall we?”

Pursing her lips, Felicity sighed. “Yes, of course, sir.” She stood, gathering her things. Begrudgingly, she turned to the woman she loathed. “Iris,” she said, nodding, then walked towards the door.

“What’s wrong?” Barry asked, returning from the door to see Felicity out. Iris was doing that thing where she nibbled on her fingernails – her way of not accidentally saying things she knew she shouldn’t. He’d seen her do it often in the presence of her coworkers. Sometimes, even with him.

“Nothing,” she said, lying.

“Iris, you can talk to me, you know that,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Iris sighed. “I get so tired of Felicity acting as if she walks on water just because she’s smart!” Iris yelled jumping up from her seat. “You have no idea how hard it is to stay professional around her when I just want to fucking slap her.”

“Ignore her.”

“Easier said than done,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I’ve been in this business for 6 years, Iris. It’s not all about science and algorithms. You have to know how to speak to people, how to treat them. That’s one of the reasons I hired you, and that’s the reason that you’ve lasted longer than any of my other personal assistants. I try to be respectful, but I’m not the easiest man to work for.”

“Oh, I know,” Iris said, laughing.

“Ohh, do you, now?”

She nodded, a smile on her face. “I’ve always loved a good challenge though,” she said, pulling her into him by his tie, leading him the the private quarters of his office. 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Barry held out Iris’s trench coat in front of him. She stepped forwards, fastening the top button of her white blouse, then turned to inch her arms into it.

“Thank you,” she said, before turning back to face him. Still barefoot, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a quick peck on his cheek before backing away, but a hand at the small of her back stopped her.

“Mr. Allen?” she asked, tilting her head, knowing very well what his MO was.

He smirked, then leaned down, pressing his mouth against hers. She readily accepted his advances, and soon, their tongues were again intertwined, slowly outlining every vein, every crevice of each other’s mouths. A soft moan escaped her lips, as his hands slid down her sides, and stopped on her ass, as the scent of the ocean breeze body wash they’d both just showered in invaded her senses. It was dizzying the way he made her feel like she was both the most beautiful, desirable woman on the planet.

Not his mistress – sometimes, not even his employee. Like something _more._

As they kissed, Iris shifted from one foot to the other, wincing in pain as the aftermath of their evening made itself known in between her legs. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Nor was it the result of rough, negligent sex. The slight discomfort was a reminder for her of the forbidden places Barry had been – which body parts of hers, he’d called home at the end of the day. Over and over again. She pressed her eyes shut, savoring the feeling of his hands on her body, of being wrapped up in his arms – knowing that soon he’d be going home to another woman.

Her eyes popped open again. Why couldn’t he stay in the safe zone? When he started to trail kisses down from her mouth to her neck, finally resting on her collarbone. Over his shoulder, she found the clock. 9:10. _‘God. Four hours.’_ “Barry,” she said, breathlessly.

“Hmm?” he moaned, his mouth hot against her neck.

“I-I,” she started before relenting, to the feel of his tongue inside of her ear. "Gosh, this feels amazing."But she didn’t have it in her for another round. _Four had been plenty._ Nor did they have the time. “Barry, we’ve been here for hours,” she said pressing against his chest to let him know that she wasn’t resisting just to resist. “We’ve played enough this evening, no?” She brought her hands up to his collar, and smoothed out the wrinkled folds, then adjusted his tie.

Barry sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just so hard not to touch you when you’re near me. Getting through our work day is near impossible. So when we’re alone, I just can’t stop.” The throaty gravel in his voice nearly made her knees buckle; she hated denying him contact because the truth of the matter is that she wanted him to touch her as much as he wanted to touch her. “But I do agree that it’s time we get going,” he started before trailing off.

“Because your wife is expecting you,” Iris said curtly, finishing the statement he wouldn’t.

She knew that mentioning Becky would change the tone in the atmosphere – it always did – but Iris wasn’t one for mincing words. Or pretending that this was something that it wasn’t. They couldn’t live in their little bubble forever – no matter how much they both wanted to.

With all that was going on with Allenscape, Becky expected – Hell, she nearly demanded – that Barry do whatever he could to fix things. She was not going to give up their life of luxury without a fight. That included Barry working extra hours at the office. But only a _few_ extra. Much more than that and she'd get suspicious.

Barry nodded solemnly. He hated Fridays. When he was an up and coming tech CEO, he’d promised Becky that he’d always have weekends to spend with her off. Unless, of course, he was traveling. With no conventions or speaking engagements planned for the weekend, he wouldn’t be able to see Iris for over 48 hours. It didn’t sound like much, but it would feel like an eternity. He sighed.

“Yes, my wife is expecting me.” The sorrow was thick in his voice, but she didn’t know who it was for. Her, himself – or Becky. She dared not ask. Not sure if she could handle the cold, hard truth.

“It’s okay, Barry,” she lied. “I need to get going anyway. The last bus of the night will be pulling up soon.”

Barry frowned. Iris wasn’t what you would call high maintenance, but he knew her well enough to know that riding the dirty, smelly city bus was not something that she’d do unless it was out of necessity. Which was weird, considering he paid her generously for her work. Her actual job. No funny business necessary. But she was obviously doing something with her money that didn’t allow for small luxuries like Uber. Whatever that was, wasn’t his business. What was, was making sure she got home safely. And not on a damn bus.

“Bus? Nonsense. I'll rent you an Uber.

“No, I won’t have it.” Iris then turned to retrieve her purse and shoes from the floor. I don’t want any special treatment just because we’re involved.”

Barry scoffed, folding his arms, as he leaned back onto his desk. If it wasn’t so late, and she hadn’t drained every bit of energy from his body, he would have felt endeared that she equated a ride from him with special treatment. “Paying for an Uber to take you home at this ungodly hour isn’t some a form of payment, Iris – I’m not trying to buy you – it’s just a common courtesy. At this hour, I’d call a taxi for my biggest competitor.”

Iris spun around promptly, glaring at the man in front of her, “So you, Barry Allen, would rent an Uber for the egotistical, condescending, borderline sociopathic Cisco Roman? Of Roman Industries?…Really?” When he didn’t answer, she crossed her arms, awaiting the lie to come.

He paused, clearly trying to buy time, then laughed. “Okay, you got me. I’m lying.”

Iris nodded in agreement, catching her tongue between her teeth. “I know…Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a bus to catch. And they don’t let you board if you’re barefoot.”

Iris flopped down in recliner that sat in the middle of the room, in front of his desk, then started to slip her foot into her one of her shoes. Barry sighed, following her. He kneeled down in front of her, and motioned for her to hand over the shoes. He slipped on her other shoe, then fastened the clasp of each heel.

"Thank you. But that is all you're going to do for me tonight."

Barry sighed. “Iris, we’ve been here since 7 am. We worked hard all day. We played even harder. I’m exhausted – and I have a driver coming to pick me up in about 15 minutes,” he said glancing up at the clock. “There is no way I’m going to let you ride a bus that doesn’t even drop you off near your building at this hour – especially not after the evening we had. And if you even think you have a chance of changing my mind, then you’ve clearly forgotten how I get in board meetings, Ms. West.”

Iris laughed, letting her weight fall against the back of the chair. “Fine. I won’t test you – Mr. Allen.”

“Mr. Allen? So we’re playing the boss card, now?”

“Hey, you played it first,” Iris said, folding her arms.

“Hmm,” he chuckled, “I suppose I did.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

Barry Allen’s driver pulled up to the gate of his mansion. Barry rolled down his window, reached his arm out of it, and punched in his security code, sighing. The driver proceeded to drive him down the long 300-foot driveway, surrounded by pristine manicured gardens, until he was at that door of his eight bedroom, five bathroom, home.

Once parked, the driver attempted to get out of the car so that he could open the door for Barry, but he stopped him. “That won’t be necessary tonight,” Barry said, sliding him two crisps 100 dollar bills as a tip. Usually, he’d pay him with his credit card, but his assets were still frozen.

“Oh thank you, sir. Thank you!”

Barry nodded, smiling. “Have a great weekend,” he said, before exiting the vehicle.

As the driver pulled off, Barry inhaled deeply before opening the door to the home he shared with his wife, Becky-Cooper Allen. To his surprise, the smell of Italian seasons and garlic bread wafted through the air. Barry scrunched up his brows, as he rounded the corner. It was after 11 pm. Their live-in chef, Mrs. Jemeson, wasn’t usually on call this late. 

If Becky had gotten that sixty-year-old woman out of her warm bed to make her a midnight snack, he was going to blow a gasket. To his surprise, though, Becky stood in an apron stirring a large stock pot.

“Becky?” He asked. “What are you doing downstairs so late? Cooking?”

“Nice to see you too,” she replied sarcastically. “What?” She huffed, his face still showing confusion. “A wife can’t cook for her husband?”

“A wife can,” he said, taking a seat at the island. “But this isn’t your thing.” Barry couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen Becky cook, despite the fact that she was really good at it. When they were younger, just starting off, they used to cook together all the time. It was of the activities he loved most. These days, she felt that it was beneath her – like most things.

“Baby, baby, baby,” she said, sashaying towards him. From behind, she leaned down and slid a hand down his chest. “I know we had a bit of an argument this afternoon but I wanted to make things right.” She kissed him on the cheek, taking in a big whiff of his freshly washed hair and body. “Ocean breeze,” she said, straightening up. “You get in a workout at work this evening?”

“Yeah, yeah, Had to blow off a litle steam after what happened today,” he said not lying entirely. He’d had a hell of a workout with Iris all over his office. She always made him feel better, after Becky drove him absolutely mad. Even before their relationship had progressed on the physical front.

She frowned. “Oh honey, I’m sorry for being so inconsiderate,” she said, prompting him to turn around.

Barry looked at her with a hopeful glare. “Do you mean that, Becky?”

“Of course I mean it. Allenscape is your baby,” she said walking back to the stove. “I know you’re going to do everything in your power to get back on track. Besides, You cannot get us out of this mess unless your head is clear, your mind is relaxed, and your tummy is full. So yes. Sorry.”

With his back turned to her, he rolled his eyes. All things considered, that was a halfway decent apology for her. When she walked back over to him, she sat a large bowl of minestrone soup in front of him. She walked back to her oven, and retrieved the perfectly melted garlic bread, and sat that on a plate next to him, then took a seat herself.

“This looks amazing, Becky, thank you,” he said, though he’d already eaten at work. He would have been a fool to turn down her nice gesture. “You’re not going to eat?”

“Oh, I ate hours ago,” she said, waving her hand away.

He nodded, taking a bite of his soup. 

“So,” she said, placing both hands on the table. “What’s the plan?”

“Plan?” He asked.

“The country club won’t rescind my membership for at least six months – just because of our name – but my credit cards are still declined.”

“Of fucking, course,” he said, slamming his spoon down until the table. He then stood and loosened his tie. “Becky, what the hell happened to you!? You used to care about more than just money. You used to be sweet, and kind, and loving. You’d do nice things for me without halving ulterior motives. Now you’re…you’re.” He sighed, then threw his hands up in the air. “Thanks for the soup, but I am absolutely drained. I’m going to bed.”

“Well, excuse me for caring about our finances!” she said, huffing. “If you don’t get a handle on things, our lives will be changed forever. This doesn’t affect just me! It affects you too.”

He whipped around, angrily. “Actually it doesn’t. This eight bedroom house without any kids in it? YOU wanted it. The four cars sitting in our garage? You. The shopping mall upstairs that you call a closet? YOU!! I’ve never cared about living a life of luxury like this. I did all of this for you because you are my wife, and I loved you.”

“Loved?” She said, folding her arms. “As in used to?”

“Love. I love you, Becky,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I love you.” Deep down. Somewhere. It was the truth.

She scoffed. “Well, you sure know how to show a girl,” she said, heading back over to the stove, a hint of a whimper in her voice.

Given how tumultuous their relationship had become, that, that did something to him. Knowing that she actually cared whether or not he loved her. Most days, she felt so detached from their marriage. Detached from him. It had made this thing with Iris too fucking easy to not feel guilty about.

He sighed, walking over to her. “I’m sorry, Becky. Okay? I just don’t want to have the same argument over and over again. You should know that I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure the company survives.”

“But what about until then,” she asked, already recovered from the ‘loved’ blunder. “I wasn’t able to do any of my shopping today. My mother’s birthday is in three days. How will it look if I let my sister get her a better present? She has a regular old job,” she said as if the word regular was dirty or something.

Unbelievable. “Becky,” he said as gently as possible, unable to entertain any more of this conversation on this side of his bed. “You have a closet full of handbags you’ve never worn. Same with clothes. Shoes. You have 2 million dollars worth of diamonds in this house alone. Sell something!”

“Excuse me, Mr. Allen,” called out a voice from behind them. Both Barry and Becky shifted their attention to the woman standing in her robe. “I just wanted to come to get a bottle of water.”

Becky perched her hand on her hip and sighed. “Mrs. Jeme–”

“Of COURSE Mrs. Jemeson,” Barry said, cutting Becky off, waving her over. “Don’t let us stop you.”

“We can talk about this tomorrow, Becky,” Barry said, using his chef’s presence as an excuse to finally head towards the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”

By the time Barry made it to their master suite, he flopped onto the bed, letting all of his weight and frustration just fall straight away. It was then that his phone dinged. He sat up and looked towards the door to make sure that Becky hadn’t made it up the stairs yet. He pulled down his notifications and saw that he had a new email in his work account. When he opened it, it simply read: "Home safely. Thanks again.” He smiled to himself. “Good. See you Monday,” he typed out on his keyboard, before pressing send and then deleting the evidence.


	4. Chapter 4

“Come in.”

Iris West entered Mr. Allen's office, a cup of hot coffee in one hand, her tablet in the other.

For a brief moment, their eyes caught, but that was as far as things went. His office was a revolving door of employees throughout the day: he never knew when an intern or product tester was trailing behind her, so he’d trained himself to keep from getting too giddy in her presence. Even though after nearly 48 hours with Becky, the sight of her in a gray pencil skirt, glasses, and a white button down, made his heart skip a beat.

Soon, it was business as usual.

“Thank you, West,” Barry said, flatly.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Allen.” On the far–safe–side of his desk, Iris took a seat and crossed her legs.

“So what’s on the itinerary for today?”

“Nothing. Other than the press conference.”

“You mean the one thing I don’t want to be doing. Fuck,’” he said, breaking character.

It was finally time to address the press about Allenscape’s future. Media perception was the most powerful tool he had. It didn’t matter that his engineers were still one week out from actually completing the prototypes of the expo, if he could make their work sound good enough, he could stave off more fallout from having his assets frozen.

The problem lied in the fact that he wasn’t feeling very confident at the moment.

“Are you okay?” Iris asked, voice low, hating that he was stressing.

“I’m fine,” he said, sweat beading above his brow, despite the fact this his office was thoroughly air-conditioned.

Iris looked back towards the door. “Nervous?”

“About losing the thing I’ve poured six years of my life into? he said. “I’m ecstatic.”

“Stop it; you can do this,” Iris said, empathetically.

“I envy your ability to be this calm.”

“I’m not exactly calm, but the stakes are much bigger for you. And I can’t help you if I’m a mess too.”

“I have to jump a little to get to mess. Trainwreck is more accurate,“ he said, a nervous chuckle in his voice.

“Yeah? Well, you wear trainwreck really well, babe-I mean, Barry. I mean Mr. Allen,” she said, quickly. “Sorry.”

Barry laughed, catching the skin of his bottom lip between his teeth. ”Least of our problems right now, Iris.” 

Regaining her composure, she said, "We shouldn’t have a problem, Mr. Allen. The engineers are working their asses off, we have all the right contacts, and goodwill in the community. People want to see you succeed. You just have to believe in yourself.”

Quickly, Barry reached across the desk and took Iris’ hand. He released it just as fast, but the warmth of her skin still brought him a little peace. "I cannot tell you what your faith in me means to me."

“Then don’t. Go kick some ass at your press conference, and then come back, and you can show me.”

Barry cocked a brow. “Oh, you’re trying to work overtime tonight?”

Iris laughed. “Overtime. Under you. It’s all the same thing."

* * *

* * *

Iris West quietly entered her two bedroom apartment. It was well after midnight, and she didn’t want to wake her roommate, Linda.

As a reporter, Linda was always on call – and God help the soul who disturbed her beauty sleep. Inside of the apartment, Iris fumbled in the dark until she found the light switch, then wiggled out of her jacket and shoes.

When Iris turned, she gasped, shocked to see Linda seated on the couch, arms folded. “Uhh, why are you sitting in the dark?”

“Waiting for you.”

Weary, Iris sighed. “Linda, I cannot go clubbing tonight. I am spent.”

“Hard day at work?”

“Umm, intense is more like it.”

The press conference went moderately well if you accounted for the fact that Barry had nearly had a panic attack during the ride over. When he got in front of the press though, all of that deep seeded apprehension faded away. He became the confident, capable Tech CEO that ruled his company with a wool covered iron fist, she’d come to know over the last year. The one more than capable of overcoming a setback.

“Is that why you’re just now getting in?”

“Mhmm,” Iris said, lying. Technically, she could have gone home at 6:30. But after baring his soul to the press about his money problems, she knew that he needed to de-stress in a way that only she could could aid him–not that she could tell Linda. Over the last year, they’d become fairly chummy, but she was still a nosey bitch.

“Well, I hope that boss of yours is paying you over time,” Linda said, looking Iris up and down. “You rarely come home the way you left the house, or at a decent hour, anymore.”

“Not like it matters. Most of my check goes to my dad’s medicine and health insurance,” Iris said changing the subject.

Linda’s face dropped, the tiniest shred of empathy taking place of the judgemental scowl she’d been wearing. “How is Joe doing anyway?”

“Better. Not great, but he’s alive. And that’s a start. The doctors are gonna readjust his meds soon, see if a stronger dosage will help.”

“I’ll keep him in my thoughts.”

“Thanks, girl,” Iris said as she headed for the hallway. She stopped the prickly feeling of Linda’s gaze, marking her back. Turning, she asked, “You have something on your mind?”

Linda smiled, smugly. “Come, sit. Friend.” She said, patting the seat next on the couch next to her.

Iris sighed, not in the mood to deal with Linda’s drama. Linda was exhausted when she wanted to be. And she seemed to always want to be. Seated on the couch, Iris put her tired feet up on the coffee table and rested her head against the back of the couch.

“You got five minutes.”

“I only need three.”

“Well, 2:59.”

“Aren’t you tired of being the personal assistant to some rich asshole?”

Iris cocked open an eye, a loaded question if she ever she heard one. “What?”

Linda turned towards her, propping on leg up on the couch.

“It’s been a year already, and yet, you’ve made no steps towards getting that CCPN internship so you can transition into the career you actually want.”

“Can’t argue there,” Iris said, opening her eyes wide. “But this position pays a hell of a lot more than an entry-journalism job, and I need this money to help my father. Maybe after he–” she said, trailing off, unable to say the words, but knowing that the odds of him surviving much longer are scarce.

Linda folded her arms against her chest, grazing her forearms with her fingernails, wheels in her head spinning manically.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?”

The other woman bit her lip.

“Linda,” Iris beckoned.

“I have a proposition for you,” Linda finally spit out, eyes gleaming.

“Of course, you do,” Iris said, laughing unironically. “You don’t cut into your beauty sleep for nothing…other than maybe dick.”

Linda wrung her hands. “I have a lead on a really big story, that could shake up my world, and yours. If you want it too.”

“Why would I want my semi-peaceful existence shaken up?”

“Because Ramon Industries is THIS close to snuffing out it’s the biggest competition, under Apple,” Linda said, ignoring Iris’ question.

“You-you mean Allenscape?”

She nodded. “Allenscape. News of Barry Allen's’ financial litigations has been all over the internet.”

“Okay?” Iris said, unsure of where her friend was going with this. Iris had to be careful about what she disclosed to Linda, unsure of when she was talking to Linda, her friend, or Linda, the reporter – who was always on the lookout for a lead. "It’s standard for a company of this size to hit a snag, but I’m sure we’ll bounce back,” she added, even though she knew they’d hit more than a snag.

Her faith in Barry to snap back from it was genuine though.

Linda eyed Iris smugly. “I’m not so sure. I hear that that boss of yours is panicking because he doesn’t have anything near the scope of what Cisco Ramon is about to unfold. at the smartphone expo”

“And how the hell would you know that?”

“I have my sources,” she said, coyly. “But they’re all too afraid to go on record.”

“What makes you think I’ll talk?”

“Because all they have to gain is infamy. They already have cushy jobs and nice health plans. Lofts that tech-bros would envy. What do you have?”

“A steady job, and my dignity. Loyalty.”

“How steady can the job be if Barry Allen is going broke?”

Iris scoffed. “Rich people broke, and regular people broke is different. If anything, we’ll have to scale back on the daily catering, or the in-house gym, the weekly yoga sessions. Maybe the bi-monthly team building retreats.” She laughed, realizing how much money they waste on frivolous luxuries.

Linda rolled her eyes. “Iris, focus.”

She sighed, resting her head on her hand. “Fine.”

“All I need is for you to go on record about the current company atmosphere. Barry’s current mental state, stats from the engineers, his game plan. That tech expo that’s coming up. Tell me what does he have planned.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Iris. Please.”

“Linda, I signed my life away in NDAs when I was hired. If I speak out against the company, my great grand kids will be paying my lawyer fees.”

“But you don’t understand, Iris. If we break this story, you’ll be able to pay your own lawyer fees.”

“Well, which is it? Will snitching get me a job, or enough money to take on one of the richest men in America?”

“BOTH, Iris. I would co-credit you on the piece, kick starting your investigative journo career. AND Cisco Ramon is willing to pay a pretty penny for a take down piece.”

“Ohhh,” Iris said. “Now it makes sense. You’ve sold your soul to that kid’s suit-wearing devil. Why?”

“Because I’m tired of my shitty job at CCPN. He can change my life, by making me the head of his PR team. He can change yours too–if you get us what we need.”

“Who said I wanted my life changed? I like my job, Linda.”

“But I thought this job was just a stepping stone.”

“It was…it is. “

“Then why do you even care if Barry Allen’s company fails? I hear he’s a total dick.”

“You heard wrong. He’s a great boss. Caring, kind, empathetic. Patient…speaking of which,” Iris said, pulling out her phone.  
“What, he has you on call 24/7?”

“No, I need to let Mr. Allen know I made it home safely.“

Lina cocked a brow. “Why?”

“He rented me an Uber.”

“What, your legs broke? The bus wasn’t running?” Linda asked laughing.

Iris rolled her eyes. “I’ve been working more late nights, so he’s been concerned about me riding the bus at this hour. He’s a good boss, like I said,” Iris added when she realized how that sounded.

“I don’t know, sounds like something a man does for his…wait,” Linda said, eyes growing wide. “Is this why you’re always so late? Why haven’t I seen a man here in God knows when? Are you–are you?”

“Linda, don't’ be ridiculous. Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“Oh, My God. You’re fucking him, you’re so fucking him. That’s why you don’t want to help me!”

“NO! I don’t want to help you because Cisco Ramon fucks over his own family–did you see the tell-all book his brother wrote? Why would I wanna align myself with someone like him? Not to MENTION,” she said, voice shaking, “ I’m not that kind of woman, and you know that.”

Linda folded her arms. “I think doth protest too much.”

“I think it’s rude of you to accuse me of having an affair with a married man.”

“I have to call things like I see it,” the reporter said, humping her shoulders. “Tell me, is he big? Is it true that rich men don’t eat pussy?”

“LINDA, I’m NOT talking about this with you.”

“But there is something to talk about,” Linda asked, leaning into her.

“You’re asking a lot of me for someone who switches between being my friend and a reporter in the same sentence and for someone who’s working with my boss’s biggest rival!” Iris huffed, finally standing. Turning, she headed for the hallway, completely done with this conversation.

“Iris,” Linda said, jumping up from her seat, in pursuit of her friend. “This is friend Linda, talking.”

Iris whipped around, annoyed. “What?”

“Off the record,” Linda said hand over her heart. “If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, you need to stop. You are too beautiful and desirable to just be some asshole’s office pussy. ”

“Thank you for the advice,” Iris said, managing a chuckle from the depths of her gut. It was all she could scrounge up since her temperature had shot up, and since her heart was palpitating. Thank God she’d learned to perfect her poker face long ago. “But I don’t need it.”

Linda sighed, placing a hand on Iris’ shoulder. “When you’re ready, to be honest, I’ll be here. As your friend. And when you’re ready to take down this adulterous bastard AND land a better job, I’ll be here too.”

Again, Iris laughed, unable to find more words to defend herself. At least none that would push Linda off of their trail.

“Allow me to be clear, though,“ Linda added slowly. "Cisco Ramon will not stop until he takes Barry Allen down completely. I’ll protect you all I can, but if you don’t stop this, you _will_ get caught in the crossfire.”

* * *

* * *

Iris jumped when Mr. Allen passed her desk, which was seated outside of his office suite. It usually took more than a “Morning, West,” – in a very different setting–to warrant every hair on her arm to stand on end, but after the conversation she’d had with Linda, she was on edge.

Leave it to Linda to stir up her complicated feelings about their affair. Iris didn’t even have time to ruminate over them though; she had bigger fish to fry. How was she going to break it to Barry that the topic of much of their pillow talk – his fear that some of his employees were leaking information to the press, was true?

Worse, that her friend was heading the witch hunt for his rival, just a few days before the Smartphone expo in Keystone?

“Fuck,” she said underneath her breath.

Mr. Allen stopped in his tracks pivoting his body so he was facing her.“Pardon me?”

“Oh, sorry,” Iris said. “Not directed at you, Mr. Allen.”

He looked around the empty lobby; then leaned forwards. “Are you okay, Iris?” He asked, gently placing a hand at the small of her back.

“Mhmm,” she said, sliding out of his grasp. Standing, she flashed him a weak smile. ‘I just-I.”

“You what?” He asked, the tone just as gentle as his touch. God, why did he have to have the most sincere, earnest eyes in the world? Why did he have to make her heart flutter like a middle schooler, who just got her first crush? This was not her problem, but she couldn’t shake this deep seeded urge she had to protect him. _God, I can’t do this._

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old one shot that multiple people have requested I re=post. So here it is! There are no immediate plans to expand it, past this.
> 
> Edit: Oh, I found two more chapters! I'll post those too. :)


End file.
